


Works of Art

by worrisomeme



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mostly Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 03:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11199087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worrisomeme/pseuds/worrisomeme
Summary: “Tony Stark,” Bucky says, grinning from ear to ear. He crosses his arms behind his head and leans back in his chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”“Hey Buckaroo,” Tony says from the computer screen. He’s fiddling with what appears to be some crazy new piece of tech he’s working on. “How ya been?”“I’ve been good,” Bucky chuckles and stretches a little. “But I know you didn’t just call to check on me. So what’s up?”“Gee Buck, you ruin all the fun,” Tony teases, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, you got me. You’re friends with Nat so I’m sure you heard about the… uh, incident with Pierce.”Bucky tenses just a little and gives a nod. “Boy did I,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “What about it?”“Well, me and the board were talking about who we wanted to replace him,” he starts. There it is. Bucky knows exactly where this is going. “We decided we want you.”





	Works of Art

**Author's Note:**

> It has taken me _ages_ to finish this, and I ended up cutting some scenes that will probably end up as bonus fics later, but here it is! Hope you guys like it!! :)  <3

“Tony Stark,” Bucky says, grinning from ear to ear. He crosses his arms behind his head and leans back in his chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hey Buckaroo,” Tony says from the computer screen. He’s fiddling with what appears to be some crazy new piece of tech he’s working on. “How ya been?”

“I’ve been good,” Bucky chuckles and stretches a little. “But I know you didn’t just call to check on me. So what’s up?”

“Gee Buck, you ruin all the fun,” Tony teases, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, you got me. You’re friends with Nat so I’m sure you heard about the… uh, _incident_ with Pierce.”

Bucky tenses just a little and gives a nod. “ _Boy_ did I,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “What about it?”

“Well, me and the board were talking about who we wanted to replace him,” he starts. There it is. Bucky knows _exactly_ where this is going. “We decided we want you.”

“I dunno Tony,” he replies, chewing on his lip. “Who would take over the studio? And I’d have to come all the way back to the States. I’d have to find a place and-“

“Taken care of. You’ll have an apartment waiting for you in the same building as Nat and Clint and we’ll pay you double what you make now. Those twins that you work with can take over the shop. The Maximoffs or whatever. Unless you don’t trust- What was it you called them? Some of the most amazing teachers you’ve ever had the pleasure of working with?”

He’s just making excuses and Tony knows it. He should have known Stark would come prepared. He’s been wanting to move back to the states, to be in his hometown and with his friends again. But he knew it would be a lot of work and paperwork and time and money and effort and so he made excuses not to. But now Tony’s calling him and he’s solved all of those problems _and_ he’s offering him a job. How can he say no?

Bucky’s laughing now and he shakes his head. “Okay, okay,” he says. “I see your point. You’ve clearly thought everything through.”

“Extensively.” He gives a little nod and it makes Bucky wonder how long he’s been planning this, just waiting for the opportunity to open up. He wonders if Natasha planted the seed. “So how long is it gonna take for you to get back here?”

Bucky rolls his eyes even though he’s secretly grateful for Tony and his opportunity and he huffs out another little laugh. “I dunno,” he says. “A month or so, I’d guess.”

“Alright then, it’s a date. See you in a month.” And then Tony winks and blows him a kiss and just like that he’s gone.

Bucky gets an email a couple days later with all the details. His new address in New York, plane tickets, everything he could possibly think of, Tony’s taken care of all the way down to a cell phone plan. And you really can’t beat that, can you?

 

*

 

Clint makes it in to work just barely on time, as usual, two cups of coffee in hand. He slides one to Steve as he walks past him.

“Always happy when you make it in for another day,” the blond teases him, gratefully taking the cup and taking a sip. It’s a running joke they have. He knows that Clint would never actually do anything to jeopardize his job, but he does cut it awfully close sometimes.

“Awh, you know I love you too much to leave you,” Clint teases him right back. He plops down at his own table, next to Steve’s, and stretches a little. His hair is sticking out in a million different directions and Steve finds it endearing. It wouldn’t be Clint if he didn’t always look like he’d just rolled out of bed. “Anyway, have you heard the news?” he asks.

“Nuh uh.” Steve shakes his head. “Did they decide on who’s taking Pierce’s spot?”

“Yup,” Clint grins victoriously.

“Well I just hope he’s not a dick,” the blond says, feigning nonchalance as he gets back to work. “I don’t need to get fired _now_ because I’m too _radical_ or whatever.” His loops a finger of his free hand through the tunnel in his lobe and tugs gently. A nervous habit.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,” Clint chuckles. “I guess Tony strong-armed Bucky into coming back and taking the spot.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow at that. “Ohhh the mysterious Bucky Barnes,” he jokes, dropping his free hand back to the table. “So I’ll finally get to meet him then, huh?”

“Oh you have _no_ idea.”

Steve knows his friend well enough for that tone to make him suspicious, a feeling that only doubles when he runs into Natasha later that afternoon.

“Oh, hey! Stevie!” she calls to him as they pass in a hallway. He turns on his heel to faces her and raises his eyebrows questioningly. “What are you doing Monday?” she asks, handing him off an iced coffee.

He narrows his eyes at her as he takes a sip of the coffee, letting out a little hum. “Nothing,” he says after he swallows. “Why?”

“Now you are,” Natasha replies, grinning from ear to ear. “Dinner at my place right after work. You can change there.”

 

*

 

“You want to make a good impression?” Natasha had asked him the night before.

“No I just want everyone to hate me right off the bat,” he’d quipped in response.

“When you stop and pick up your coffee in the morning, get me my usual and grab a caramel frap with an extra shot and no whip.”

And that was all she’d said. Just a ‘see you in the morning’ and that was that.

So now he’s walking into his new building two hours before they open with three coffees in hand and he’s being greeted by a familiar redhead with a crooked grin on her face.

“I’m glad to see you listened to my advice,” she says as she takes her coffee from the carrier in his hand.

Bucky looks around, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Yeah, yeah. I _always_ take your advice. Now who is this coffee for? You’re alone,” he says.

“Thanks captain obvious,” she laughs. “He’ll be in soon. You’ll know him when you see him,” she winks and kisses his cheek. “You wanna go check out your new office?”

Bucky furrows his brow and shoots her a suspicious look but eventually gives a reluctant nod. “Yeah, fine,” he says. “Lead the way milyyy.”

Tasha bats her lashes at him and blows him another kiss and they make their way down a back hallway. Except, they don’t make it very far before Bucky knows _exactly_ who the extra coffee in his hand is for.

A little blond punk with an undercut (he has his hair styled up exactly like Brendon Urie’s and it makes the emo kid buried deep inside him swoon a little), a lip ring, and tattoos up the side of his neck makes his way into the building, employee pass swinging from where it’s secured around the strap of his messenger bag. Bucky doesn’t miss the hearing aid in his ear or the stretched lobes. His nose is buried in his tablet. He knows who it is instantly from about a thousand stories from his friends and Nat wasn’t kidding when she said he was like something out of Bucky’s fantasies.

“Hey Stevie!” Natasha calls out with a wave, dragging Bucky by the wrist behind her as she runs over to him.

“Hey álainn,” he grins and, without looking up from whatever it is he’s reading, holds a hand out. “An é seo é?” Is that Irish or Scottish Gaelic?

“Sea,” the redhead replies.

He may be gorgeous, but Bucky’s not really sure yet if he’s impressed or annoyed by the guy as he quirks an eyebrow and hands him the extra coffee. He’s got this arrogance to him that Bucky’s not super fond of.

Finally Steve clicks his tablet locked and looks over to the pair. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up with a tattooed hand and flashes a calculating smile as he takes Bucky in, suit and long hair and all (and maybe Bucky flicks his tongue out to wet his lips, purposely flashing the silver stud as he does). Steve takes a long sip of the coffee and tucks his tablet into his bag before holding out a hand.

“Nice to meet you,” he says and that genuine smile makes Bucky rethink his initial judgement. “I’m Steve. I work in the dungeons restoring paintings,” he chuckles.

“Nice to meet you too,” Bucky replies, shaking his hand and looking right into his eyes (and _fuck_ are those eyes blue). “You can call me Bucky.”

Natasha links her arm with Bucky’s and flashes that wolf grin of hers. “ _Anyway_ ,” she says, as if they’d been chatting for hours, “I know you have a ton of work to get started on, and we were gonna go check out his office, then I’m gonna give him the royal tour. But we’ll see you around kotyenok.”

“See ya a stóirín,” he says, giving Natasha a curious look. “See ya around,” he says to Bucky and gives a little wave before walking off.

“What kind of fignjá are you playing at?” Bucky asks Natasha as soon as they make it into his office.

She flashes him the biggest, most fake innocent smile she can muster and bats her eyelashes again. “I have _no_ idea what you’re talking about,” she says, then changes the subject.

 

*

 

Bucky lets himself into Clint and Natasha’s apartment later that night and it smells like fresh baked pirozhki and pelmeni soup and stroganoff and he can’t help the happy little groan that escapes his lips. He’s changed into something more casual for dinner, dark jeans and a sheer button up - something to impress Nat and Clint. It’s been too long since he’s seen them, and maybe he missed their affections a little. Sue him.

“Oh man, what did I do to deserve this?” he calls as he makes his way to the kitchen, arms stretching above his head. “It smells amazing.”

“I haven’t seen you in years,” Natasha laughs from the kitchen. “I just wanted to spoil you, silly. Something from the homeland.”

“I’m not even actually Russian,” Bucky laughs as he rounds the corner. The first thing he notices is that they’re definitely not alone. Steve is sitting at the table with Clint, both of them leaning back in their chairs.

“ _Now that’s a body I could paint_ ,” Steve signs to Clint, laughing a little.

It’s clear he thinks Bucky doesn’t know ASL. But, being Clint’s friend and having a penchant for language learning, he absolutely does, and a slight blush blooms on his cheeks. He plays it cool, though, and Clint shoots him a wink when Steve’s not looking but otherwise doesn’t let on.

“ _Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something?_ ” he asks Natasha in Russian as he makes his way to the counter where the pirozhki are cooling on the pan.

“ _Me? Never!”_ she grins, batting her eyelashes at him even as she smacks him on the hand reaching toward the buns. “Right Stevie?”

“Yo!” Clint calls out to Bucky as he steals a bun anyway, holding his hands up and making a catching motion.

Steve quirks an eyebrow at her and laughs, shaking his head as he replies. “Sure Nat, whatever you say. I have no idea what I’m agreeing to, but whatever you say.”

Bucky snickers and tosses a bun to Clint before digging around in the fridge for something to drink, his own bun hanging from his mouth.

“Isn’t he the sweetest?” Nat teases, batting her eyelashes at Bucky again. “ _You’re going to spoil your dinner_ ,” she chides him, slipping back into Russian. “ _It’s almost done_.”

The brunet quirks an eyebrow at her as he grabs a beer from the fridge and kicks the door closed. “Natalia,” he half-whines. “Why’d you make ‘em if I can’t eat ‘em détka? My little pchelka,” he coos, making his way to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Didn’t you make ‘em to eat with dinner _anyway_?”

She narrows her eyes at him but a smile is already breaking out across her face. “Da, da, fine, whatever,” she rolls her eyes fondly and half-heartedly attempts to push him away, giggling as he kisses her cheek before slipping his arms from her waist and plopping down at the kitchen table.

“Look at Mister Steal-Ya-Girl over here,” Steve teases, eyebrows raises and a curious look on his face. Nat and Clint get affectionate with him, too, but not quite to this extent and he’s not really sure what to make of it all yet. Are they… together?  And how is this the same guy that he met this morning? In that suit. Yuck. (Okay, so he looked good in the suit. Whatever.) The whole thing is throwing him off so bad any cool, cocky façade he would normally play up is almost totally forgotten.

Clint just snorts and tries to steal the last bite of Bucky’s pirozhki. “You should see him when he wants something out of _me_ ,” he teases, reaching under the tablet with his foot and tapping Bucky’s leg lightly.

“All I have to do if I want something out of you is get you pizza or coffee, depending on the time of day,” he laughs.

“If you know that then why do you cuddle up to me so much?” Clint shoots back.

“Because you’re so. Damn. Cute,” Bucky replies, laughing as he leans over and boops his friend on the nose on the last word. He turns to Steve, a wide smile on his face. “So, tell me about yourself.”

Steve looks at him, really _looks at him,_ for the first time and fuck, he’s one hundred percent gone. Swept away instantly by winter sky eyes and that killer smile.

“What do you want to know?” he asks, trying to piece his mask back together. He ignores the look Natasha shoots him as she sets food down in front of him.

 

*

 

Steve’s half asleep as he makes his way into work, coffee in hand and scarf wrapped around his neck, when he hears the all-too-familiar voice.

“Hey Cap! Cap! There you are! Morning buddy!”

Tony Stark.

He groans a little, rolls his eyes, and tries to muster up a smile. It half works.

“Morning Tony,” he calls back, muffled through the scarf. The smile is a little easier to manage when he turns and sees Tony bounding over to him like a puppy, dragging a thoroughly amused looking Bucky behind him. He vaguely wonders why everyone drags Bucky around by the wrist like he’s their teddy bear. Well, he doesn’t seem to mind it much anyway. He’ll have to ask Natasha about it.

“Cap!” Tony exclaims again, finally letting go of the brunet and pulling him into a tight hug.

Steve can’t help but laugh as he hugs him back, rolling his eyes again and huffing out a breath.

“To what do we owe this… _pleasure_?” he asks. Tony doesn’t miss the teasing. He nudges him playfully in the ribs.

“Hey, is that any way to talk to your boss?” he jokes, finally pulling back and, instead, leaning against Bucky, arm up over his shoulder despite the height difference.

“Technically Bucky’s my boss,” the blond quips and Tony just lets out a little exasperated noise.

“ _Aaaaaanyway_ ,” he brushes it off. “I’m just checking up on my good ol’ pal Buckaroo over here. Making sure everything is to his liking, ya catch my drift?”

Bucky snorts and Steve thinks his eyes might get stuck like that if he rolls them again. He risks it.

“Yeah, yeah, I catch your drift. You’re gonna blow him under his desk or something, right?” he teases.

Bucky cheeks turn pink and he almost chokes on his coffee, but Tony just laughs.

“Now Steven, you know Pepper would _not_ approve,” he teases and then a predatory grin makes its way across his face as he steps back and looks Bucky up and down slowly. “In another life maybe,” he concludes wistfully.

“He is a specimen,” Steve says, winking, just to see Bucky turn even more red.

“Well that’s enough of that,” the brunet says, looking thoroughly flustered. It seems quite a feat after how consistently composed he’s been around the blond. “Don’t you have work to be doing Steve?” he teases, tone light as he hooks an arm around Tony’s neck in a loose headlock. “I’ve gotta deal with this one.”

Tony yelps out a little protest and squirms but Bucky keeps his hold just firm enough to keep him in place.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Steve laughs, shaking his head a little. “See ya around boss,” he gives a little salute. “ _Bye_ Tony.” And with that he turns and makes his way toward the basement.

“Bye Cap!” Tony calls after him and, without turning around, Steve gives a little wave as he disappears down the stairs.

“Oooh you like him,” Tony teases, smirking, as soon as Steve’s footsteps can’t be heard anymore.

Bucky lets out a little snort and shoves him playfully. “Where’d Cap come from?” he asks, changing the subject. “That kid was _definitely_ not military.”

Tony lets out a snort of his own as he smooths his suit down. “Just a little inside joke. We call him Captain America. His birthday’s the Fourth of July and he’s kinda got a hero complex,” he teases, linking his arm with Bucky’s as they head back to his office. “And anyway, he definitely likes you too.”

Bucky scoffs and shakes his head, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “He thinks I’m hot, that’s all. I’m not looking for a fuck buddy Tone.”

Tony flops down in Bucky’s chair, which doesn’t even earn him a quirked eyebrow from the brunet. They’ve definitely known each other too long. “You don’t know until you ask,” he says, flipping through some papers on the desk. “I think he’ll surprise you.”

 

*

 

It’s Friday night and Bucky’s stretched out on the couch at Nat and Clint’s, his legs draped across the other man’s lap. His friends are in their pajamas and he’s opted for nothing but a pair of sweatpants. He might not be the cool, confident guy he likes to pretend he is in public, but he sure as hell isn’t self-conscious in front of these two.

“To another work week over. Not that our jobs are so draining or anything,” Natasha says with a soft laugh, coming around the corner with three beers in hand. She stops half way across the room and smiles at them, bottles clanking lightly as she rests her hands on her hips. “It’s so nice to have all three of my boys so close for once,” she muses for a minute before walking over and handing them their bottles.

Clint flashes her a cheesy grin and does finger guns at her, while Bucky rolls his eyes fondly, not even fighting the smile spreading from ear to ear.

“Yeah, yeah,” he teases. “When’s the pizza gonna be here?”

Natasha laughs and shoves him as she settles in Clint’s lap, adjusting Bucky’s legs so they’re across her own now.

“Any time now, chill out,” she says, grabbing the remote and clicking through the guide. “What do we want to watch?”

Clint and Bucky are arguing, alternating between German and Italian, over whether they should watch the History Channel or Food Network, when the door cracks open and a stack of pizza boxes with a pair of legs attached edges its way into the room.

“Someone order way too much pizza?” Steve jokes, kicking the door closed behind him and peeking around the stack.

Bucky turns pink instantly and it’s only by the grace of God or someone that Steve manages to keep his cool when they both realize that Bucky’s laying there, half naked and spread out like a goddamn buffet. And damn does he have some ink of his own. That’s hot. Nowhere near as much as Steve by any means, but shit is it glorious.

There’s a beat of silence where Natasha is just watching them, a victorious, mischievous grin on her face.

“ _I’m on to you Natalia_ ,” Bucky says in Russian, turning his attention to the redhead and giving her a _look_. To his credit, he’s managing to seem mostly unaffected, even with his cheeks burning pink.

“ _Then do something about it_ ,” she challenges playfully.

“ _You could have at least warned me you had the most gorgeous man alive half naked on your couch_ ,” Steve signs to Clint, looking mildly annoyed. Lucky for him, Bucky is still too busy staring down Nat to notice.

Clint snickers and the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. “ _The most gorgeous man alive, huh_?” he replies in Irish, then switches to English. “You’re lucky _he_ didn’t see you say that.” He takes the opportunity to snatch the remote from his wife and turn the TV to the History channel.

Bucky knows Clint’s talking about him instantly and _that_ gets his attention. Damnit he really needs to start learning Irish. “Say what now?” his eyebrow quirks up as he glances back and forth between the blonds. His blush has finally faded, at least.

“ _Just talking about how much I love you baby_ ,” Clint signs, teasing.

Bucky lets out a snort, vaguely noticing the TV, and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure, whatever you say bublik.”

“You sign?” Steve asks the brunet, feigning nonchalance as he finally kicks off his boots and peels off his jacket, tossing them into the corner of the room. “Is there any language you _don’t_ know?”

Bucky tries desperately not to stare but he really thinks Steve in his pajamas might be the cutest damn thing he’s ever seen in his life. Under that leather jacket Steve’s in a pair of silky pajama pants and a sweater at least four sizes too big for him. With those glasses and that hair, the piercings, tattoos... And, god, that sweater is just hanging off his shoulder, showing off miles of inked skin. He wants to figure out just how much of that lithe body is covered and –

Oh. Yeah. He asked him a question.

“Um, yeah, of course” Bucky chuckles and gives his head a little shake. “But I do know a lot. These two have been my best friends for a long time, so of course I can sign. I _don’t_ know Irish, though,” he offers. “So there’s that. That’s what that is, right? Irish?”

Steve visibly lightens. “Yeah,” he chuckles, relieved that the brunet missed the gorgeous comment both times. “My parents were from Ireland. Fresh off the boat.”

“That’s awesome,” Bucky smiles wide, genuine and sweet. “Mine are Italian.”

They don’t even notice Natasha watching them, intent and absolutely pleased with herself.

“Nice,” Steve chuckles, giving a little nod. “Beer’s in the fridge, right?” he asks.

 

*

 

Bucky comes straight from his first meeting with the board (okay, so maybe he makes a brief stop for coffee on the way). He’s in an even nicer suit than he normally wears to work, long hair pulled tight back into a bun. It reminds him of show nights as an instructor. But there’s no ballet tonight.

Natasha quirks a brow at him as he makes his way into the building. “How’d the meeting go?” she asks, eyeing the coffees in his hand knowingly.

“Boring,” he replies, feet moving quickly as he makes his way to the steps leading down into the basement. “Mostly budget and this and that. A little talk of events for the coming months, that was nice.”

Natasha follows, keeping in step with him perfectly. “Gde vy sobirayetes’?” she asks, sly grin playing on her lips. _Where are you going?_ She knows, they both know it, she’s just testing him, teasing him.

He pauses at the top of the steps, eyebrows raised unamused as he looks at her. “Vy znayete,” he says. _You know._

Tasha’s grin widens and she waggles her eyebrows at him, throwing him a wink before bounding off wordlessly. Bucky lets out a little snort and rolls his eyes fondly as he turns and makes his way down the steps.

When he gets to the basement, Clint and Steve are arguing (or, at least, it sounds like they’re arguing) over something or another in Irish, both bent over their work. Bucky clears his throat and musters a little, “Hello,” and both heads shoot up instantly.

Steve’s eyes widen just a little and he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back on his stool, face curious. Clint’s brow quirks up in a look hilariously similar to the one Natasha had given him moments ago.

“Non una parola,” he says, _Not a word,_ pointing a finger at his friend around the coffee in his hand.

Clint, still grinning, purses his lips and drags two pinched fingers across them in a motion of zipping his lips.

“Man,” Steve teases, looking between Bucky in his suit, the coffee cups in his hands, and Clint, “my boss is such a fucking square.”

Bucky chuckles and holds out one of the cups to him. “I just came from a board meeting,” he explains, cheeks tinting pink. “Thought you could use some refueling by now.”

“I could use some refueling,” Clint chimes in, letting out a snort when both Steve and Bucky turn to glare at him.

“So look,” Bucky says after a beat, at the exact time Steve says, “So Buck.” Both of their hands are still wrapped around Steve’s coffee cup, fingers brushing.

They laugh and Bucky holds his hands up, fingers already missing the feel of Steve’s on his. “Go ahead,” he says, tucking a stray hair behind his ear.

Steve smiles bashfully and takes a sip of his coffee, too sweet, just the way he likes it. “Well,” he says, pink blooming on his cheeks too now, “I was just wondering if you, uh, you know, if you were maybe free this weekend. For, uh, um… a date? Saturday night?” He’s trying to feign nonchalance, he really is, but he knows he’s totally bombing it.

Bucky can’t help but laugh, eyes bright as he shakes his head. “You know,” he says, “it’s the funniest thing. I was going to ask you the _same_ thing.”

Clint pretends to puke in the background as they both laugh.

“Great minds think alike I guess,” Steve jokes as Bucky flips Clint off. “How do you feel about screamo?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Comments and kudos, reblogs on tumblr, etc mean the world to me! Love you guys!<3
> 
> I'm always taking requests or up for just chatting on [tumblr](http://worrisomeme.tumblr.com)!<3 <3 <3


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